


If I'm not broken, break me down (so I will never feel alone again)

by HaniTrash



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fisting, Bottom Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Consensual Non-Consent, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Forced Orgasm, I'm Going to Hell, M/M, Rape Roleplay, Restraints, Top Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-13 22:23:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21005126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaniTrash/pseuds/HaniTrash
Summary: “I want...” He licks his lips and takes a deep breath. “I want you to use me. Take me. By force. Claim me. Treat me like...like a mission. No regard for my pleasure. Only yours. Make me submit to you.”Bucky is silent for a few moments, and Steve thinks this is it, he’s gone too far, he’s found the one line Bucky won’t cross.“So what you’re really asking is for me to rape you.”Steve flinches.“The term is ‘consensual non-consent,’ technically,” he whispers.“Why do you want that, Steve?”“I...want to feel small again. Want to feel helpless. Want to feel you...feel you overpower me.”Bucky blows out a heavy breath.“That’s a lot to ask for, Steve.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> SERIOUSLY, MIND THE TAGS. Steve 100% asks Bucky to play out a rape fantasy, and he gets more than he bargained for. I wrote this fic for all the degenerates in the Stucky Fistposting (defrost) fb group in response to a picture that was posted - and once I figure out how to include pictures I'll share it with you as well. :)
> 
> title from "If Rain is What You Want" by Slipknot

“Stevie, you okay?”

“Yeah, Buck, I’m good. I swear.”

“I’m having a hard time believing that. We just had some really amazing sex and you look depressed. Kinda gives a guy performance issues, y’know?”

Steve sighed. “I’m sorry Bucky. The sex was great, it always is. You know that.”

“Then why don’t you look happy?”

Steve dropped his eyes, unable to look Bucky in the face.

“Sometimes it isn’t..._enough_. Back before everything, when I was smaller than you, sometimes when you were drunk you’d come home and just...overpower me, and it was the best. You’d stop worrying about hurting me and just _use_ me, and it made me feel so good, and I’d come so hard, knowing that I was taking care of you that way, and I’d feel like I was repaying you for all the times you’d had to take care of me when I was sick...” His rambling trailed off as he lost his nerve, afraid to connect his disjointed thoughts and say what he really wanted from Bucky. Afraid that Bucky would freak out, not want to do it, be mad at Steve for wanting _that_.

“So I’m being too sweet on you? Is that it?” Bucky teased.

“No! And yes. I don’t fucking know! I love you. I love our life together. I love fucking you and you fucking me and not being scared that someone would find out and we’d go to jail. I don’t want any of that to change.”

“But you just said that I ain’t fucking you right. So tell me true, Steve. What do you want me to do?”

“You won’t like it,” Steve whispers.

“Steven Grant Rogers,” Bucky barks, all softness is gone from his body and his voice, and it makes Steve shiver, cock twitching at the tone of threat.

“I want...” He licks his lips and takes a deep breath. “I want you to use me. Take me. By force. Claim me. Treat me like...like a mission. No regard for my pleasure. Only yours. Make me submit to you.”

Bucky is silent for a few moments, and Steve thinks this is it, he’s gone too far, he’s found the one line Bucky won’t cross.

“So what you’re really asking is for me to rape you.”

Steve flinches.

“The term is ‘_consensual non-consent,_’ technically,” he whispers.

“Why do you want that, Steve?”

“I...want to feel small again. Want to feel helpless. Want to feel you...feel you overpower me.”

Bucky blows out a heavy breath.

“That’s a lot to ask for, Steve.”

Steve turns and buries his face in the pillow, his shame finally getting the best of him. Bucky’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder and he tries to pull away, but Bucky isn’t having it. His grip tightens, and he presses a kiss to Steve’s bicep.

“You gotta let me think about it, okay?”

*****

Steve was washing dishes after dinner one night when Bucky came and stood next to him, leaning back against the counter. He had his arms folded over his chest and a pensive look on his face. He’d been engrossed in something on his laptop all day, reading intently. Steve hadn’t wanted to bother him, so he’d simply set a plate of food next to him and pressed a kiss to the top of his head at the distracted ‘_thanks, Stevie’_ that Bucky had mumbled.

“I have a few questions,” Bucky said.

“I kinda gathered,” Steve smirked. “I know how you are when you’re researching something. What’s up?”

“Well, neither of us are normal. We have absurd endurance and pain tolerance levels. Not to mention the refractory period. So do we want to set a limit? How long you want me to draw it out? Or you really want to leave it up to me, til I think it’s been enough? I want to make sure you get what you need from it.”

The glass in Steve’s hand shatters as it hits the sink, falling from his grasp.

“Jesus, Buck, you coulda warned me that’s what you’re on about today!” Steve’s heart is tripping over itself in his chest, and he’d swear he was sixteen again if he didn’t know any better with the way his body flushed at just the mere mention of sex.

“I wasn’t exactly hiding it, Stevie.”

“Well, I’m not gonna snoop on whatever you’re doing!”

Bucky turned the water off and wrapped Steve’s hands in the towel, drying them and pulling Steve over to the table.

“Here, sit.” He pulled his chair over next to Steve’s and sat facing him, continuing to hold his hands. “You had to know I’d be looking it up, learning all about it, right?” Steve nodded.

“I figured you would,” he said, face heating.

“Steve, this is nothing to be embarrassed about.” Bucky moved one hand to cup Steve’s cheek. “I get it. You’re right, our sex life has changed dramatically since the thirties and forties. I ain’t complaining, mind you. But I can understand where you’re coming from. Because I like it when you get so worked up that you get a bit rough with me and just take what you want. So I can see a bit what you mean. And you, you’ve got two different experiences to draw from—from when you were little, and now that you’re big.”

“I don’t miss being small. Not really. Not all the health issues and shit. But sometimes I miss us, the way we used to be. The way I fit in your arms when you held me at night, how I’d feel so secure and protected and...precious there.”

“You’re not too big that I can’t hold you, babydoll. And you’ll always be precious to me, you know that right?”

The sentiment is so incongruous to the main topic of their discussion that Steve wants to laugh, but he just gives Bucky a small smile and a nod of his head.

“So. Things for you to think about: how do we decide when it’s done, considering how long we are capable of going? Next is, do you want to know this is happening? Meaning, are we establishing a date and a time for us to—”

“No,” Steve says, shaking his head before Bucky can finish speaking. “No, that was part of the thrill of it for me. I never knew when you’d be that way, when you’d be so overwhelmed by need that you’d let go of your restraint.”

“Okay. Okay I can work with that.”

Steve squeezes Bucky’s hand.

“Last thing. And this one is non-negotiable, Steve. If you don’t agree to it, I’m not going to consider any of this any further. We need a safeword. Because, if I understand what you want correctly, if you say _no_ or _stop_, you want me to keep going, is that right?”

“Yes,” Steve whispers.

“Do you want me to be so rough that you feel the need to fight back, until I finally overpower you completely?”

Steve sucks in a ragged breath and closes his eyes briefly.

“Yes,” he exhales.

Bucky swallows hard.

“Okay. So, safeword. If you don’t agree to using one, I’m calling this off.”

“Okay, Bucky. I will. I’ll come up with one.”

Bucky lifts Steve’s hands to his lips and kisses the knuckles on each.

“Bucky...thank you. For even thinking about it. I know it’s not normal to want this. Even if it never happens, having you just acknowledge it and consider it means so much to me.”

“I love you, Stevie. I’ll always do my best to take care of you.”

*****

The following weeks passed in a kind of delicious torture for Steve. Bucky would ask him questions at random, sometimes not even caring if there was anyone else within earshot. Steve never had to guess what he was talking about, either, because there was a certain _look_ that came over Bucky’s face when the thought occurred to him, and then the question would just pop out out of his mouth, usually leaving a very flustered Steve in response.

~~~

“In my tac gear?”

Steve shuddered.

“That’s a yes, then.” Bucky smirked as he walked away, leaving a very confused Clint to stare at Steve.

~~~

“Drugs? Sedatives?”

Steve stared at Bucky, jaw on the floor.

“No?” Bucky looked confused, sounded hesitant, as if he’d been sure of the answer.

“Yes,” Steve immediately answered, head nodding enthusiastically.

“Okay,” Bucky said, and wandered off towards Bruce’s lab with a grin on his face.

~~~

“Full restraint?” Bucky asked, slamming his hips forward as he held Steve roughly by the back of the neck, shoving Steve’s face into the mattress as his metal hand held Steve’s arms pinned together against his lower back.

“Fuck!” Steve cried as the thought alone nearly made him come.

Bucky grunted as he came again, flooding Steve, making him a sloppy mess as it ran out of him.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Bucky crooned in his ear, his voice low and dangerous and fucking _sexy. _“The things I’m going to do you.” He bit down hard on the top of Steve’s shoulder and Steve screamed, vision going white as Bucky dragged his cock against Steve’s prostate and he came hard.

~~~

“Hey, I thought of one.”

Bucky looked up from his coffee, a single eyebrow raised.

Steve squirmed, suddenly feeling like a bug under a microscope at the intense gaze.

“Well, sweetheart, you gonna tell me or just keep me guessing?”

Heat rose in Steve’s cheeks as he blushed, casting a sidelong glance at Sam, who sat at the other end of the long table, ostensibly minding his own business.

“Bronx,” he said sheepishly.

Bucky sat back, laughing.

“I like it. Okay, baby, Bronx it is.”

*****

It was a rare thing indeed for the tower to be empty. Yet somehow, that’s exactly what happened, everyone taking a well-deserved break after a particularly rough fight against one of the last Hydra strongholds. Clint and Natasha had gone to the farm. Tony and Pepper were on a tropical beach somewhere. Bruce and Thor were visiting Dr. Selvig and Jane for some sort of seminar. Sam didn’t live there full time anyway, but he was off visiting family and licking his wounds.

Steve had considered going somewhere with Bucky, but the truth was, he just wanted to spend the next few days in as much physical contact as possible with him. That wasn’t an option once the press and the paparazzi recognized them and hounded Steve for statements about being _gay_ (because they never listened when he finally shot back “I’m _bi!_”) and after everything that had happened, the fact that Bucky nearly died, _would have _if he didn’t have the accelerated healing and if Tony hadn’t been in the right spot to catch him at the last possible second...so yeah, he was being selfish, but he wasn’t sharing Bucky with anyone this weekend.

It was with these thoughts and more that Steve stepped out of the elevator with the bottle of scotch and the takeout they’d ordered.

“Hey, Buck, food’s here!” he called out, setting the large box on the kitchen counter. “What did you want first? And did you pick a movie yet?”

Silence greeted him.

“Bucky?”

He headed for the living room, where he’d left Bucky to prepare for a night of just hanging out on the couch. Steve _knew_ that Bucky could hear him, hell, he’d have been able to hear him getting off the elevator.

He stepped into the room and was surprised by a strong hand on the back of his neck, spinning him and smashing his head into the wall. He was instantly on alert, in fight mode, and pushed off the wall, swinging blindly as he turned to his attacker, only to have his fist captured by a metal hand.

Steve instantly stilled as his brain registered who his attacker was, and his eyes caught up with the rest of his body.

He was staring into the cold, flat eyes of the Winter Soldier.

“Bucky?” Steve asked hesitantly. _Fuck fuck fuck fuck I _knew_ we shouldn’t have brought him on the Hydra base mission goddamn it he’s been triggered somehow fuck how do I pull him out of this without hurting him? _Steve’s eyes flicked down, taking in the black vest, heavy pants, and boots. They kept very few weapons in their rooms, so he only wore a single gun, but Steve knew there would be a handful of knives there as well, hidden in any number of places on Bucky’s gear. Bucky wore similar gear when they were on missions, but Steve thought the original Winter Soldier gear had been disposed of after being copied and modified. He shuddered as his gaze traced the edge of the mask covering the lower half of Bucky’s face, something he’d been vehemently opposed to ever wearing again.

Bucky’s right hand came around, catching him staring and clocking him squarely on the jaw. Steve’s head rocked to the side.

“Bucky, please, don’t do this! Let me help you!”

“Shut up,” Bucky growled, cupping him by the jaw, fingers digging painfully into the spot he’d just punched. His other hand came around and caught Steve in the gut, knocking the wind out of him and he fell to his knees, gasping and wheezing. Bucky didn’t give him a chance to recover, however, as his boot connected firmly with Steve’s side, knocking him to his back.

Steve kicked out, trying to connect with Bucky’s kneecap but only catching him in the thigh. Bucky caught his leg and brought his weight down on it, one of Bucky’s knees pressing firmly into each of Steve’s thighs, metal hand tight around his throat.

“Stop fighting,” Bucky hissed. His right hand went to Steve’s crotch and grabbed him, squeezing to the point that Steve saw stars.

“Stop! Please!” Steve gasped. “Bucky, don’t do this!”

“You know you want this. I’ve seen how you look at me.” And for just a moment, Bucky held Steve’s gaze, and Steve watched as Bucky’s eyes changed from the empty, flat stare of the Winter Soldier to the dark, stormy grey they turned when the two of them were going at it hot and heavy, and then back to the dispassionate glare.

Steve exhaled heavily. Adrenaline flooded his system and he swung his arm, catching Bucky on the side of the head and knocking the face mask loose.

“That was a mistake,” Bucky ground out through clenched teeth, reaching behind his back. He brought out a long piece of jointed metal and Steve’s heart seized as he recognized the cuff Bucky slammed against Steve’s wrist. The sound of the metal clinking together jolted him into action.

“No!” Steve cried, trying to grab at it with his other hand. Bucky removed his hand from Steve’s throat as he grabbed at Steve’s arm, slapped another bracelet over that wrist, and slammed Steve’s hands together above his head.

“No no no!” Steve thrashed, trying to pull the magnetic cuffs apart, but they were stronger than he remembered—had Bucky gotten new ones? How? Where? When? He bucked his hips and threw Bucky off balance, rising up and headbutting him right in the nose. Blood began pouring out almost immediately.

“Motherfucker!” Bucky cursed and backhanded Steve. It was his metal hand—of course it was the metal hand—and Steve cried out in shock and pain when he felt the cracking of bone. Bucky paused and watched Steve carefully, as if waiting to see if he’d gone too far.

Steve gathered a mouthful of blood from where Bucky’s strike had split his lip and spat it at him, hitting just low of his aim and landing on Bucky’s throat instead of his face.

“Fuck you,” Steve hissed.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed and he landed another solid punch to Steve’s gut before he shifted his weight and flipped him onto his stomach. Steve cursed when his face smashed mercilessly into the floor. He felt a cold hand wrap around a bare foot—he hadn’t bothered putting shoes on to retrieve the food delivery—and slap another band around his left ankle. Steve tried to get his right leg underneath him to throw his body up and back at Bucky, but Bucky folded his left leg up so his heel was against his ass and put all his weight on it as he grabbed Steve’s sweatpants to haul his right foot up in much the same manner and snapped the cuffs together.

Steve moved to pull his arms down and under his chest and Bucky slugged him in the _armpit_ of all places and _holy fuck _that hurt and his arm went numb as Bucky reached up, did something to release the cuffs from each other, and then wrenched his arms together behind his back. He reconnected the wrist cuffs and when he lifted his weight from Steve’s legs, he was surprised to discover he’d essentially been hogtied together with the cuffs and what felt like a solid metal bar between his wrists and his ankles.

A hand fisted in his hair and yanked his head up. Steve gasped when he felt the needle prick in the side of his neck.

“I’m not the one getting fucked here tonight, _Captain,” _Bucky growled menacingly in his ear before he grabbed one of Steve’s arms and began dragging him through the room.

(thanks to the lovely Gwenpools for the assist with the image!)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo-boy. Okay. Hopefully this lives up to everyone's hopes and expectations, lol. I had to, uh, take a few breaks while writing it, so I guess that's a good sign? ;) As far as I can tell, there's only one chapter left after this, but these idiots are not making the aftercare easy on me so that might take a few days to get up here, lol.

Steve came around slowly, limbs feeling heavy. It was when he tried to move and found himself unable to that everything came back in a rush. He looked around and it took him a moment to realize that he was in Bucky’s room. From day one Bucky had slept in Steve’s bed and this room was largely used for storage.

Clearly, Bucky had been busy in here when Steve wasn’t paying attention.

He turned his head, trying to find a way out. He was near the top of the bed, his arms spread wide and bound to the corners of the bed. His legs had more than one binding on them, at the ankles and on his thighs just above the knee. Currently he was spread eagle, but that apparently was going to change, as there was only tension on his ankles. He pulled against the cuff on his right arm and heard a dark chuckling in response.

“Oh sugar, you can try all you want. You’re not going anywhere.”

Steve cursed, falling back against the bed and staring at the ceiling. Bucky came into view at his side, amusement clear on his face.

“Magnetized vibranium cuffs. Vibranium laced ropes. And a bed reinforced enough for supersoldier sex, remember? Give up, sugar. You’re my sweet little treat now.”

Steve shot Bucky a murderous glare. He _hated_ being called sugar. It’s what the men at the docks used to catcall him with, hound him on the rare occasions when he’d visit Bucky at work, usually when Bucky forgot his lunch. They’d ask what kind of sugar they could get from Steve if _they _paid his bills, if he was rationed, obnoxious insults that never failed to make Steve turn eighty different shades of red between anger and shame, because it was true, Bucky _did_ take care of him, _did_ pay most of the bills, and yeah, Steve _did_ show his appreciation the only way he knew how.

“What’s wrong, sugar? Cat got your tongue? Where’s that feisty mouth of yours?”

Steve considered biting the inside of his cheek enough to draw more blood, just so he could spit at Bucky again. He’d cleaned the blood from his face and removed his vest and boots, but still wore his tac pants, and his chest was an inviting target for Steve’s rage. Unfortunately for him, Steve was naked and restrained, unable to do much besides be on display for whatever Bucky had planned. He whimpered as Bucky—_The Asset_?_ The Winter Soldier?_ he didn’t know how to think of him right now, and that in itself was a head trip—tightened the restraints, his legs being pulled up and apart mercilessly so that he was bent nearly in half, presenting his ass for Bucky like an offering.

“Look at that pretty pink hole,” Bucky crooned, tapping two fingers against Steve’s pucker. “Almost as pretty as a pussy. Is this your pussy, sugar? You want to be a good girl for me?”

Steve clenched his jaw—and that still fucking hurt, so he hadn’t had been out for too long, which was good to know—and continued to glare at Bucky, who simply laughed.

“Nah, this ain’t a pussy, is it? If it was, you’d be all sweet and wet for me, wouldn’t you? But you’re not wet, are you, sugar?” He shoved a finger inside and Steve cried out at the burn, the pain of the dry entry. “No, not wet at all. That simply won’t do. I’ll have to do something about that, won’t I?”

Bucky climbed onto the bed and undid his pants, pushing them down just enough that he could pull out his half-hard cock and begin stroking with purpose.

“Such a pretty hole. Maybe I should take a before and after picture, hmm? That’s a good idea. So you can see just how pretty you are. And then what I’m going to do to you.” The bastard actually pulls his phone out of his pocket and snaps a picture of Steve, trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey.

“Nothing to say, sugar? No rousing speeches? No begging for mercy?”

“Would any of that get me anywhere?” he bites out.

Bucky shrugged. “Probably not.”

“Then I’ll save my breath.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea. You’ll need it for your screams, after all.”

Bucky moves closer and resumes stroking, jerking himself off, so close that Steve can feel the heat from Bucky’s body against the back of his thighs. Bucky places a steadying hand on one of Steve’s legs and keeps his attention down, watching himself, keeping his cock pointed down, and Steve is hit with the realization of what he is doing.

“God, I’m gonna come just remembering you like this for a long time, sugar. Such a sight. It’d make any man come, seeing you like this. Laid out like a treat, a gift for me to use—_ung_!” Bucky comes, hot and wet against Steve’s cool skin, coating his perineum and the underside of his scrotum, running down towards his hole.

“There we go,” Bucky says, voice rough, as he quickly takes the hand from Steve’s leg and presses it against him, coating his fingers with his come and pushing them inside. Steve grunts, trying to fight the intrusion, trying to fight his own body’s response because _fuck that was hot_ and for a moment there he forgot that he’s supposed to be fighting this and his cock is getting hard.

“Gotta get it all in there, make you nice and wet for me, right sugar?” Bucky withdraws his fingers and drags them through the mess, shoving the come inside Steve, coating his rim. “Look at you. All that fighting, for what? See? You want this too.”

“No,” Steve says, the protest sounding weak even to his own ears.

There are two fingers inside him, and now Bucky takes his hand off his own cock and wraps it around Steve’s, hard strokes timed with the thrust of his hand.

“Come on, sugar. Give it to me. Give me more to make you nice and wet and sloppy for me. Show me how good you are. Show me how much you want me.”

“No, no,” Steve says, shaking his head, even as his cock grows under Bucky’s ministrations. He thrashes against the restraints, twists his torso the tiny bit of room that he’s allowed, trying to get away, though he knows it’s pointless. Bucky’s grip on his cock is painfully tight as he jacks him, and a third finger shoves ruthlessly inside him, hard metal finding his prostate and massaging, and then he’s coming, he doesn’t want to, but there’s a pool of come on his stomach and Bucky is praising him, telling him how sweet he is for him, saying how he’s going to show him how good he is as he scoops up Steve’s come and shoves that inside him too.

“Please,” Steve begs, and he doesn’t even know what he’s asking for, but his arms hurt and his legs hurt, everything hurts from being bound so tight, and he wants to be used but it’s _wrong_, not like this, he’s not supposed to _like_ this, and then Bucky is driving his cock into him, and that hurts too, and he likes _that_, and—

“Not even paying attention to me, are you?” Bucky growls as he smacks Steve, and it hits right over the still-healing fracture, and that’s got Steve’s attention for sure. He gasps as Bucky slams into him harder than he ever has before, there’s no finesse, just a brutal joining.

“You don’t get to disappear on me yet. I’m nowhere close to being done with you.” He grunts as he moves with enhanced strength and speed, and Steve wonders what it would feel like to break a pelvic bone. “Gotta drive all this sweetness up inside you, get you ready for me.”

“But, you’re already—”

Bucky’s laugh cuts him off, sends chills down his spine.

“Oh no, sugar. This is just the beginning. We’re gonna see just how much this pretty hole of yours can take.” He drives in one last time and holds himself close, the zipper of his pants pressing painfully into Steve’s skin, and stills as he comes, cock pulsing and spurting deep inside Steve.

“Hmm, I think we need a little more, don’t you?” Bucky rolls his hips, his barely soft cock dragging along Steve’s prostate. Steve clenches his jaw again, using the flare of pain to keep himself from groaning as he fights to not get hard. He can _feel_ Bucky growing hard again inside him, and he’s always loved that, knowing that Bucky just couldn’t bear to part with him before they started in again, that he’s so far gone that he just can’t stop.

“Christ, it’s like you’re made to take my cock. Maybe I’ll keep you like this, so I can just come in here and fuck you any time I want. You want that, sugar? You want to be nothing more than the hole I stick my dick into?”

Bucky fucks into him relentlessly, chasing his own orgasm, and Steve can’t help but get hard, a whimper escaping him at the thought of being nothing but Bucky’s fuck toy, here only to serve and be used like the worthless and broken thing he is.

“Yeah, that sounds real good to you, huh sugar? Look at that cock, all hard and leaking. I’m going to use you and use you and I don’t even care if you come or not, you know that? I’ll leave you aching for release while I fill you up with my come until it runs out of you.” He comes with a groan, pressed up against Steve, and his thighs are raw from the friction of the zipper against his skin and it hurts, and his cock hurts because he needs to come, and he wants to cry because it’s all so perfect.

“Fuck, your ass is still so tight, sugar. God bless that serum. Like a fucking glove around my cock, so warm and good. Let’s see what we can do about that, though, what do you think? Should be nice and wet for me now. Let’s stretch you out.”

Bucky moves back a bit and shoves three fingers inside Steve the moment his cock slips out. Steve grunts as the ridges between the metal plates pull and dig at his hole, a stark contrast to the smoothness of Bucky’s cock.

“Yeah, it feels nice and slippery in there now. Gonna stretch this wide open. Big man like you can take it, right? I bet you can take a _lot_, can’t you, sugar?” Steve felt Bucky start to push his pinky finger in and clamped down. “Now, now, sugar. Don’t make this harder on yourself than it needs to be.”

The fourth finger pressed in alongside its mates and Steve hissed, pressed his head back into the mattress with his eyes squeezed shut. Bucky _wiggled_ his fingers and then began pumping his hand into Steve, bottoming out to where Steve could feel Bucky’s thumb as it splayed out against his thigh.

“Fuck, look at that. That feel good, sugar? I bet you can keep going, can’t you? Isn’t that your thing? ‘_I can do this all day,_’ right? Isn’t that what you always say?”

“No, no, no, please, please no, please don’t.”

“Oh yes, sugar. I’m going to do it and you’re going to say thank you to me when this is all said and done.”

Bucky’s thumb rubbed teasingly over the now sore rim of Steve’s hole before he slid his hand out a bit and tucked his thumb into his palm. Steve bucked and shook, clamped down, tried to push his hand out.

“No, no, I can’t, stop, please, no, it hurts, please...” Steve whimpered, tears slipping from the corners of his eyes.

“Oh, sugar, you’re doing so good, you can take this, I know you can. Don’t you want to give me everything? Give me what I want, so you can get out of these restraints?” Bucky’s free hand began stroking Steve’s cock again as he soothed him, his voice sickly sweet, placating, and Steve sobbed.

“It’s just one more, sugar. You can do one more, right? Stretch you right out? All red and swollen around me, you should see it. You’re gorgeous.” Steve tried to steady his breathing and calm his body. He knew, logically, that the more he fought it the worse it would hurt. But that didn’t stop the gut reaction to stop this, force him out, make it all end. He focused on the gentle stroking on his cock, the stretch of his body around Bucky’s hand as he pushed for more and more. Steve knew that Bucky was working him up to it, could feel him stopping just before the widest point of his hand, but realistically, come didn’t make the best lube after a while and it still hurt,

“Yeah, you can do this, sugar. You’d do anything for me, right?”

When Bucky’s fist pushed firmly past Steve’s opening, and his hole closed in around Bucky’s wrist, Steve screamed.

“_Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck no god fuck it hurts it hurts please no!”_ Steve gasped and panted for air while Bucky held perfectly still inside him. He felt as though his ass was on fire and was about to be ripped open, could feel the plates of Bucky’s hand shifting, flexing and retracting, rubbing against his walls, tugging at the rim.

_ Bronx_, his brain supplied helpfully.

“See, sugar?” Bucky crooned, resuming the leisurely stroking of Steve’s cock. “So good. I knew you could do it. You look amazing with my arm inside you.”

Steve sobbed again. _Bronx_. It was there, on the tip of his tongue.

“I had to stop and take another picture. Christ, I’m so hard again now, sugar. I thought I was gonna come when I watched you swallow me up.”

_Bronx_. He wanted to say it. He did. Some part of him was aware that he _should_ say it, because he was about to break down into a sobbing mess, and it had nothing to do with pain and everything to do with how fragile he felt at the moment, like he was about to shatter from Bucky’s touch.

“Look at you, taking all that for me. I knew you would. Knew you’d like it.”

And Steve _did_ want to do this for Bucky, endure anything Bucky wanted to do to him, be so good for Bucky, show him how much he loved him.

He was Captain America. 

He could do anything.

He took a deep, steadying breath just as Bucky started to move his arm.

Bucky pumped his arm in and out of Steve’s ass in rhythm with the strokes on his cock and Steve _moaned_. He couldn’t hold it back.

“You like that, sugar?”

Steve bit his lip, hard, to keep himself from responding. Bucky twisted his hand, rubbing his knuckles over Steve’s prostate, and he shouted, his dick pulsed in Bucky’s hand, and he felt himself releasing, between the pressure on his cock and the pressure in his ass, but it wasn’t enough, wasn’t a true orgasm, and Steve whimpered.

“You need something?”

“Please!” he gasped, pulling against the restraints, cuffs digging painfully into his wrists, trying to redirect the source of his body’s frustration as he chased an orgasm he didn’t want, was being forced on him—_again—_and through it all Bucky was being just so damned _cold_, calculating, arrogant, and downright cheerful.

“Oh, sweetheart, if you could see your face right now,” Bucky said, and Steve could hear the heat in his voice, hear the subtle switch in the timbre of it, and the tears started anew. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Stevie.”

“Bucky, please!” he cried, and tried to roll his hips in time with Bucky’s movements.

Bucky shifted his hand again inside Steve and suddenly Steve _was_ on fire, as what felt like a thousand tiny little pricks of energy coursed through him, it felt like a live wire in his ass, and he screamed, clenched down hard around Bucky as the feeling was entirely too much and yet not enough.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart, I’ve got you. Break for me, baby. It’s okay. I’ll catch you.”

“_Bucky!_” he shouted, and his ears rang and his heart exploded and everything went black as he erupted, the most intense orgasm of his life stealing his senses and leaving him floating.

And then suddenly Bucky was there, Steve could feel his hand in his hair and his breath on his cheeks as he kissed the tears he couldn’t stop and Steve was trembling, his legs were free and wrapped around Bucky’s waist as they rocked together, and it hurt, but it was gentle and it was perfect, and he was perfect, he knew it because Bucky kept telling him so.

“So good for me, babydoll, so perfect, god you’re gorgeous, I love you Stevie, I love you, you were perfect, so good sweetheart, it’s okay, I’ve got you, shh...”

And Steve couldn’t say anything, couldn’t stop saying “thank you, thank you, thank you,” over and over, even as Bucky praised him and kissed him and caressed him. He didn’t know how, but he came again when Bucky came, and he cried again because everything hurt, it was all too much now, and then Bucky was holding him, he was curled around Bucky with his face pressed into his chest, just like when they were younger, and he couldn’t stop shaking or crying or floating.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, yeah, this isn't the last chapter. they're dragging this out. Steve needed more whumps apparently. *shrugs* Much love to Gwenpools_Aesthetic for her help in getting the end of this chapter right. <3

Steve was still floating, surrounded by warmth. He felt weightless and heavy at the same time, and eventually realized that he was in water. He moved his arm, and felt a kiss on his temple. Oh, so the wall he was leaning against was Bucky.

“Welcome back,” Bucky said softly.

“_Mmm-hmm,_” Steve hums. Bucky chuckled, the vibrations rumbling through his chest and into Steve’s back. He craned his head back before opening his eyes, wanting the first thing he saw to be Bucky’s face, and his heart nearly broke at the love shining in those blue-grey eyes.

Bucky cups a cheek with his hand and presses a soft kiss to Steve’s forehead, then nose, and finally his lips. The sigh that escapes Steve sounds cliché even to his own ears, but Bucky just smiles at him.

“How do you feel?” he murmurs.

“Like Tony had the right idea when he designed this place with giant bathtubs,” Steve answered, voice gravelly and raw. Apparently he’d done more screaming than he remembered?

“Mmm, I’d have to agree with that. Not what I was asking, though.”

Steve turns in Bucky’s arms, wincing slightly at the sting in his ass. He noticed the way Bucky was keeping his left forearm and hand dangling down over the edge of the tub and out of sight. It was also the shoulder Steve had been leaning on, so that Bucky’s touches came only from his right hand. Steve knew tactics, knew it was intentional, that Bucky was likely worried about how Steve would react to it after what he’d done. He also noticed the way Bucky’s jaw tightened when Steve had shown that fleeting sign of pain.

“Bucky..._thank you._” He grabs hold of Bucky’s face and kisses him. “I feel amazing. That was amazing. _You _were amazing.”

“Pretty sure you were the amazing one, sweetheart. Did I hurt you?” he asked, lightly tracing a knuckle over Steve’s jaw where he’d hit him.

“Feels fine now. Sorry about your nose,” he said, tucking his head and looking up at Bucky through his lashes.

Bucky laughs. “You surprised me with that one. Pissed me off good, too.”

Steve shrugged. “You healed. Looks fine to me.”

“You just want mine to be all crooked like yours, is that it?” Bucky teases, tweaking Steve’s nose between his fingers.

Steve settles across Bucky’s lap, tucking his head into Bucky’s neck as he’d done so many times when they were younger, huddling together to share warmth as Steve fought another round of illness. Bucky trails his hand along Steve’s arm.

“Bucky?” he asks hesitantly.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Why won’t you hold me?”

“I am holding you, babydoll.”

“Not all the way.”

With his face pressed into Bucky the way it was, Steve can feel the way his heart rate speeds up and the heavy swallow he takes before he speaks.

“Wasn’t sure you’d want that hand anywhere near you right now.”

Steve presses a kiss to Bucky’s neck.

“Hold me, you big dummy.”

Bucky lifts his arm from the edge of the tub and Steve steadies himself as is wraps around his back. Given Bucky’s concerns about Steve’s reaction to the arm, the last thing Steve wants to do is give him the wrong idea by flinching when the cold metal meets his warm skin. Bucky sighs deeply as he pulls Steve into him and now, finally, Steve feels Bucky’s body relax beneath him.

“You did so amazing, Stevie. I...fuck, I don’t even know how to put it into words, that you let me do that...”

“It was almost too much. I almost said it.” He felt Bucky’s wince and hurried to continue. “It was overwhelming, but after a minute it didn’t hurt. And then you did...” Steve sat up to look Bucky in the face. “Does your arm, um, create an electric shock?”

Bucky’s bottom lip disappears between his teeth as he chews on it, a nervous habit he’s always had.

“Did it hurt? I didn’t want to _really _hurt you.”

“Hurt? Are you fucking kidding? It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt. Why didn’t I know your arm did that?”

Relief washes over Bucky’s face as he smiles.

“Well, I never really needed it here, now did I? It was something I used to help fry security and electrical systems.”

“You have been sticking your fingers in me again for almost a year now, and you didn’t think you needed it?”

Bucky presses his hand to Steve’s chest with a laugh.

“It’s an all or nothing thing. I can’t do it out of just a few fingers. Has to be my palm.”

“So you can control how strong it is, though?”

Steve watches as Bucky connects what Steve is saying to what he’s _not_ saying yet. Bucky groans and drops his head back against the rim of the tub.

“Fuck, Stevie, you’re gonna be the death of me, aren’t you?”

“So that’s a yes?” He can’t keep the excitement out of his voice.

Bucky lifts his head and fixes Steve with a hard, level glare.

“Not tonight. No, don’t give me that face,” he growls when Steve pouts. “You’ve been through a lot tonight, sweetheart. No more tonight.”

“But I heal fast. I feel fine.”

“_Steve_. I said no. I’m going to clean you up and check to make sure you’re not lying to me about how hurt you are. Then we’re going to get in bed and eat and I’ll let you pick whatever sappy movie you want and we’ll _sleep_.”

“Bucky, you know I’m fine. You don’t need to dote on me like this. I asked for it, and it was everything I wanted and more.”

“Damn it, Steve! Let me do this! It’s called aftercare and you know that. After what we did tonight, we _both_ need it. You wanted—_needed—_to be broken, and I did that for you. Now let me get what I need out of this, will you? Let me put you back together, like I used to. Let me know that you still need me. That I can still take care of you.”

“Oh, Bucky,” Steve breathes, and holds Bucky’s face gently in his hands. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think about what this must have done to you, taken from you for you to do it. I was being selfish.” He kisses the tear that escaped Bucky’s eye, and then suddenly he’s being crushed against Bucky as he holds Steve tight, and Bucky drags in a ragged breath as he fights the tears, and Bucky _never_ cries, he was always the strong one.

“I need you so fucking much,” Bucky chokes out. “So much, Stevie. And I look at you now, and you don’t need me for anything, you’re big and strong and healthy now, and you have all these other people around you who are just as amazing, what could you possibly want with me when I’m so messed up? So then you ask me for this, and I know I’m the only one who knows you, knows the _small_ you, knows what will tip you over, what will break you, and you know why I agreed? Because it meant you needed me. Because it meant I’d be able to put you back together. That I’d have that part of myself, that part of _you_, back. So who’s the selfish one here, hmm? I just...please, Steve. Please let me have this. I need know that you need me around for _something.”_

Steve feels terrible and worthless that he hadn’t even stopped to think about any of this, he was just so happy to have Bucky here with him that he’d never questioned _anything_, Bucky had become another member of the team and it was just like the war all over again with a new set of Commandos and Bucky on his six and in his bed and—Steve pushes back to look at Bucky.

“_Fuck_, Bucky, of course I need you! I’ll _always _need you. Nobody knows the real me besides you. All they know is the propaganda, and me after the ice, and yeah, I’m different now with having you back but that’s still not _me_, not the Steve that I get to be with you, and I didn’t know how much I’d missed him until I had you back.”

“But you’re still not him, sweetheart,” Bucky says, and the endearment does nothing to ease the feel of that knife in his gut. “You’re close, but you’re not him. You don’t let me take care of you the way I used to. I don’t believe that you’re doing it on purpose, hell, I don’t think you’re aware of it at all. But you got so used to being the big tough guy all the time, the man who doesn’t need anyone to help him, that you brush me away, too. I never minded _being_ your shadow, Stevie. But most of the time now, I feel like I’m _in _your shadow. I feel like I’m the guy with the cool arm and the big gun who is Captain America’s boyfriend. Not Captain America’s _partner._”

Steve stares at Bucky and he can’t breathe. He’s trying to, but he can’t get enough in, and he feels like he’s sinking under the arctic waters again, like there’s a twenty-thousand-pound weight on his chest, and his heart is roaring in his ears, and the tears are streaming down his face and he knows it’s an ugly sight, when he breaks down like this, but he’s frozen in place and not just by Bucky’s arms around his waist.

His brain races as he thinks. About everything. About what Bucky said. About the things Bucky used to do all the time—remind him to eat. Make him food. Help him pick out clothes in the store. All the little things he used to do around the house because Steve couldn’t, like dusting in the corners of the ceilings, or cleaning in general because of the fumes. And now? When Bucky had first arrived and tried to do those things, Steve had insisted he could do it, because Bucky had enough to deal with in regards to his mental health and clearing his name. And then it was because he didn’t want Bucky to feel obligated, like he had to do it because he was living with Steve and had no money. Then it became, I’ve been doing it all along, I’ve got it, no worries pal.

Until Bucky had simply stopped trying to help Steve.

Steve hadn’t seen the chasm he’d dug between them.

He’d been so busy trying to help Bucky and take care of him, that he hadn’t even realized how important those things were to him.

Steve thought he’d broken in that room, on that bed, when he’d pushed past every physical limit he thought he had.

But that wasn’t it.

This right here is what breaks him.

Hurting Bucky.

Pushing him away, without even seeing it.

The thought of losing the one person he needs the most, the one person who means the most to him in all the world.

Steve breaks, and it has nothing to do with what he’d thought he needed.

It has nothing to do with feeling physically vulnerable.

“Oh god!” he gasps, and clamps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide in shock and horror, as Bucky calmly and gently holds the back of Steve’s neck, thumb stroking along his hair line like he always did. And _fucking of course Bucky is soothing him_, because that’s what Bucky _does,_ he _takes care of Steve_, and Steve hasn’t been letting him do the most important thing in the world to him, hasn’t been letting Bucky feel needed or wanted, not the way things had always been between them, and Bucky is _still _looking at Steve like he hung the fucking moon, even through all of this, even after Steve ruined Bucky’s hopes of reclaiming even a tiny glimmer of what they once had.

“Shh, it’s okay, Stevie,” Bucky says, pulling Steve back against his chest and holding him tight.

“Bucky, Bucky, I’m so sorry,” Steve sobs, clutching at him, fingers digging into his back. “Oh god. Oh please. I’m so sorry. I need you, I do, I do. Please. Please don’t go. Don’t let go. Help me. I do, I do, I’m sorry...” Steve trailed off, gasping for breath between the sobs, trying to force the words out that he wasn’t even sure he understood yet.

“Shh, I’ve got you Stevie. I’m here.”

Steve wraps himself around Bucky, clinging to him like a koala bear, as Bucky whispers soothing words in his ear, one arm tight around Steve’s back, the other combing through his hair. Eventually his hysterics settle, though he can’t bring himself to loosen his grip or look Bucky in the eye.

“Hey sweetheart,” Bucky says gently, kissing Steve’s temple. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not, but this water is ice cold. And neither of us have gotten clean yet.”

Steve tightened his arms in response, and Bucky laughed softly.

“Okay, listen. Number one: I am not going anywhere. Ever. You’re stuck with me til the end, babydoll. Number two: we are getting out of this tub and into the shower, and then you’re going to let me take care of you.”

Steve sniffs and nods his head mutely. “Okay,” he says, and is proud of the fact that his voice is only moderately shaky.

“Lastly, after we eat, we are fucking discussing this.”

Steve nods again, knowing by the tone of Bucky’s voice that he’s not getting out of it.

“Come on, goofball. Get up.”

Reluctantly, Steve stands and exits the tub. Bucky never lets go of Steve’s hand, and for that he is grateful.

“You cold, sweetheart?” Bucky asks as he adjusts the temperature in the shower. Steve realizes that he’s shaking, but he honestly doesn’t know if it’s from the cold or something else, so he just nods his head. Bucky pulls him under the spray and Steve gasps at the shock of heat.

“Who would have thought we’d live long enough to have unlimited hot water for showers, huh?” Bucky smiles as he guides Steve’s head back and works his fingers through his hair.

“I still don’t understand how you don’t get hair caught in your hand,” Steve says absently. “I mean, I feel the plates moving all the time. And when you had it inside me. You’d think something as small as hair would get stuck.”

Bucky’s eyes crinkle in amusement, but he doesn’t answer Steve’s concerns.

“Turn. Gotta wash your back.”

Steve goes easily, and Bucky takes his time, gently washing him, massaging as he goes, and a soft moan lodges in Steve’s throat.

“Lean forward, sweetheart, let me see you.”

Bucky’s hand lingers on his hip and Steve braces his arms against the cool tile, bending slightly so Bucky can wash and inspect him. His face heats at the intimacy of it, and he can’t help how his body reacts to the touches, the memories of other showers, other baths and inspections. Warm, soft fingers slip between his cheeks, trace over his hole, gently probing.

“How does it feel?” Bucky’s voice is rough.

“’Sgood,” Steve gasps, clenching his fist in an attempt to not touch himself. Bucky presses a kiss just above the tight ring of muscle. “_Fuck_,_ Bucky,_” he groans, and for all that they love this, they hardly ever do it anymore, because now Steve can handle more actual sex.

Bucky’s hand slips up between Steve’s thighs and wraps around his cock, soapy and sliding easily, as he circles his tongue around the tender flesh of Steve’s hole. He rocks into the touch, he can’t help it, and thinks of all the times he’d stood in much the same position, Bucky cleaning him up after a fight, checking him over, and they’d end up here, with Bucky’s face buried in his ass and his hand on Steve’s cock.

Steve whimpered, ghosts of past memories taunting him as Bucky’s tongue slips inside him. He withdraws, hooks a finger in and tugs Steve open before plunging back in, fucking him with his tongue, sucking and nipping at the rim, and Steve’s legs shake like he’s twenty-something again, five-foot and change, covered in cuts and bruises, and falling apart in Bucky’s arms.

“Oh god, Buck, Bucky, fuck...” Steve buries his face in his arm, muscle memory, ingrained behavior, and muffles his cries against his bicep _because the neighbors might hear, the walls are paper thin, don’t want anyone to find out..._Steve comes as understanding dawns on him, and his legs go out, and Bucky holds him, helps him down, hugs him to his chest just like always.

And just like always, Bucky’s steadfast devotion and unending support restored some semblance of sanity back to Steve’s brain, reminded him of who he was inside, and Steve found himself at a loss for words as he sat between Bucky’s legs. Another ingrained behavior supplied itself, a remnant from the days when his body would betray him, when he’d be too weak to speak and Bucky would take care of him. A code he’d all but forgotten until now, hadn’t needed since the serum.

Steve turns to Bucky, eyes searching his face, as he prays for it to be a memory that has survived Bucky’s trauma. Bucky’s brows twitch together in confusion, but he remains silent, waiting Steve out, as if he can see the hope in Steve’s expression. He took Bucky’s right hand in his, brought it to his mouth, kissed the palm, and then placed it over his heart. _I love you. _But more than that. _I need you._

Bucky sucked in a startled breath and tears shone in the blue depths as Bucky mirrored Steve. He took Steve’s free hand and repeated the motion, kissing the palm and placing it over his own heart_. I’ll take care of you. It’s going to be okay._

Steve sighs in relief and drops his head to Bucky’s shoulder. He didn’t trust himself to form coherent sentences at the moment, too overwhelmed with emotions and growing understanding of his own issues, but Bucky had heard him loud and clear. Bucky pressed his face into Steve’s hair and they sat there together, crying silently into each other as the hot water continued to fall around them.


	4. Chapter 4

When Steve wakes up, he’s in their bed, snuggled up under the blankets. Bucky is sitting up next to him, reading something on his tablet. Steve reaches for Bucky, and he smiles down at Steve.

“Hey there. Feeling better?” he asks, brushing Steve’s hair back from his face.

He’s not sure that _better_ is the right word, but it’s close enough, so he nods his head.

“Think you could eat? You really need the calories after everything tonight.”

“Oh, man, our _dinner!_” Steve groans as he rolls to his back and pulls the covers over his head, remembering the takeout and the chicken parm dinner he’d been looking forward to eating. It’d been left out on the counter now for so long that it wouldn’t be safe to eat anymore. He hears Bucky laughing and feels the bed dip as he leans in over Steve and tugs the blanket off his face.

“Sweetheart, I put it away while you were..._incapacitated_ earlier. It’s fine.”

Steve blinks up at Bucky. Suddenly his gargantuan order (_three steaks? Rare? Are you sure? That’s not how you normally order your meat...) _makes sense. Steve’s chicken won’t be the same when it’s reheated, but ordering rare steaks ensured they’d be good to eat after being warmed back up.

“You thought of everything,” he says, tears threatening to spill over, as if he hadn’t cried enough already tonight.

“Don’t worry, I’ve already got plans for yours for lunch tomorrow. I’ll go heat up the rest of it, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“Okay, Buck.”

He returns almost immediately with a protein bar and a glass of water, giving strict orders that Steve is to eat the bar while he waits. Steve smiles fondly, still amazed after all these years that Bucky’s ‘don’t you give me any nonsense’ tone could be delivered so gently. He catches Bucky’s hand and pulls him in for a kiss, soft and tender.

“Thank you, babe,” he whispers against Bucky’s lips before he leaves.

The next time Bucky returns, it’s with two tray tables.

“We’re really eating in bed?” Steve asks, an amused grin on his face.

“Yep. You better turn that tv on and pick your movie, sweetheart. I’ll be right back with our plates.”

Steve does as he is told, and has the trays all arranged with the utensils and ready for Bucky when he comes back. Bucky shoots a glance at the screen and drops his head back with a groan on his way to the bed, but as previously promised, doesn’t say a word about Steve’s choice of rewatching _Legally Blonde _yet again. Steve was pretty sure that Bucky secretly liked the movie too, but would never admit it.

They eat in comfortable silence, the occasional scoff or snort coming from Bucky at certain points of the movie. When Bucky returns after clearing away their dishes, Steve snuggles into him.

“Tell me why you didn’t say it when you wanted to,” Bucky says softly after a few minutes.

Steve freezes, and doesn’t lift his head from where he’s pillowed on Bucky’s lap. He’d hoped that Bucky wouldn’t ask, but knows that if he doesn’t answer Bucky will push him.

“Because I’m Captain America. I can take anything,” he quips with a shrug. “It was just that first minute or so, then it got better and I was fine.”

Bucky’s hand tightens in Steve’s hair and Steve sighs.

“I didn’t want to disappoint you,” he whispers, turning to bury his face in Bucky’s thigh.

“You think this knowledge is somehow better? Knowing that you won’t protect yourself from me if I get carried away? How can I even consider doing anything rough with you again after you tell me something like that? And then try to make a joke of it?”

“It’s not like that. I mean, it isn’t like that _now_. It was then. It just...it’s complicated and I barely understand it myself but I swear I get it and I swear I’ll say it if we ever do that kind of stuff again and it’s too much.”

Neither of them speak or move for a moment, and then Bucky’s hand resumes its gentle caresses and the tension that had crept back into Steve’s shoulders eases.

“So, can you tell me what you figured out afterwards then?”

Steve takes a deep breath—not a sigh, but resignation. He knows how important it is for Bucky to hear this. Still, he’s reluctant to speak. He’s not even sure how to put his thoughts into words, and doesn’t want to get it wrong and upset Bucky.

Because more than anything, he wants more of what they’d done.

“It...what I asked you for. That wasn’t the answer. Not all of it, at least. I thought it was, but it was only part of what I needed, that lost part of me that I was searching for.” Steve rubbed his thumb over a scar just above Bucky’s knee. While Steve was still naked and hadn’t thought twice about it, Bucky had put on a pair of shorts and suddenly Steve felt self-conscious for it, exposed and small, even though he was covered by the blankets.

“You did everything I wanted. I felt helpless, overpowered, fragile, and...”

“Scared?” Bucky prompts gently when Steve trails off.

“Yeah. I...that’s why I almost said it. I was terrified because I hadn’t felt that way, so vulnerable and breakable, in so long. But I wanted to make you proud of me. Make you happy. You sounded so...you wanted it. I could hear it. And I knew I could do it. Wanted to do it. Physically it wasn’t a problem. I’d let you—fuck, to be honest, I _want you _to do it again. Just maybe with a lot more actual lube next time.”

Bucky’s breathing has gone shallow and Steve can tell the discussion is making him hot.

“Did you really take pictures?”

Bucky shifts underneath him and clears his throat.

“Don’t change the subject, Stevie.”

“Oh god you did.” He fights back a moan, but can’t hide the way the thought affects him as his voice shakes.

“Later,” Bucky says, and his voice is rough.

“I want to see,” he says, turning over so that he can look up at Bucky.

“We’re not done talking.”

“But we could be.” Steve tips his chin ever so slightly and mouths at Bucky’s cock through his shorts. “It certainly looks like you want to be done talking.”

Bucky grabs Steve’s hair and pulls him back with a growl. Steve’s eyelids flutter and his mouth parts.

“I hate to tell you this, baby, but pulling my hair is definitely not going to have the response you’re looking for.”

“You’re insatiable.”

“Nothing new there.”

“And impossible.”

“Still nothing new.”

Bucky pulls Steve back, so his head is mid-thigh, and pushes his shorts down with his other hand. Steve licks his lips at the sight of Bucky’s cock.

“You want this?” Bucky asks, stroking himself. “You gotta earn it.”

Steve’s eyes snap up to Bucky’s.

“That’s what I thought. Start talking.”

“You don’t play fair.”

“Never went easy on you before, ain’t gonna start now, sweetheart.”

And though he didn’t mean it, couldn’t have known, that what he said went to the very heart of everything that Steve had been reaching for, Steve feels tears threaten yet again.

“Stevie?” Bucky asks, concern clear in his voice, when Steve remains silent.

“Christ, Bucky, emotional growth and healing requires entirely too many tears as far as I’m concerned,” he gasps. He moves to sit up and Bucky releases his hair, helps Steve to sit on his lap.

“Talk to me, babydoll. What’s going on inside that big head of yours? How can I help?”

Steve takes Bucky’s hand and places it over his chest, and puts his on Bucky’s chest.

“This, right here. This is what I was looking for. What I was missing. What was right here all along, and what I’d stupidly shoved aside.”

“And what is this? What does this mean now?” Bucky’s words tremble, as if he’s afraid to ask the question but unable to keep it in.

“What it always meant, and so much more. It...the unconditional nature of it. I was taking it for granted. You said it yourself, just now. You never went easy on me before. You never treated me as if I was less than everyone else. You saw past my physical limitations. Saw me. And you still do. You see past the shield, past the uniform. You don’t expect me to be perfect, and when I’m not, you don’t give a shit. There’s no pressure with you. _From _you. When I get beat to hell, and actually let it show, they don’t know what to do with me. You? You pushed me past my physical limits and then carried on like it was a regular occurrence, because for us _it was_, and then you didn’t treat me like glass afterwards, but you patched me up and didn’t say anything about it, and then you...fuck am I even making any sense? I don’t know how to explain it.” He falls silent, looking at Bucky hopefully. Bucky looks contemplative.

“I think what you’re saying is that you miss being treated like a little shit who only _thinks_ he’s ten foot tall and bulletproof, and not some big elephant the size of the chip that used to be on that little shit’s shoulder?”

Steve lets out a slight laugh, tucks his chin to his chest and looks at Bucky’s hand beneath his.

“I’m sorry I lost sight of us,” he says softly, rubbing his thumb across Bucky’s knuckles.

“Sweetheart, you lost sight of _you_. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you when you woke up. I can’t imagine what that must have been like. It was almost normal, for me, by the time you found me, and you helped me with the rest. But you...you had to reinvent yourself again. With no anchor to tether yourself to, to act as a guide. So you let them make you into whatever they wanted, because it was easier than remembering. Does that sound about right?”

Steve sniffs and nods his head. Bucky isn’t having it, though, and he tucks his free hand under Steve’s chin and makes him look Bucky in the eye.

“As much as it hurt emotionally afterwards, did what we did tonight help you? Do you feel more like yourself now?”

“Yes,” he whispers.

Bucky searches Steve’s face carefully, worrying one side of his bottom lip between his teeth. Steve knew that meant Bucky was considering something carefully, working through the options and outcomes in his head before speaking. So many people had taken Bucky’s quietness as a sign that he wasn’t bright, and he’d let them, but Steve knew better.

“Stevie...is that something you’d like us to do more often? To enter into that kind of a sexual relationship? You need me to strip away Captain America from you, remind you that you’re Steve Rogers, the little punk from Brooklyn that I fell in love with all those years ago? You want to be my sugar?”

A shudder ran through Steve.

“I got so mad at first, when you called me that. But you kept saying it, and...fuck it got to me. It was _perfect_.”

Bucky hums happily.

“So. You’ll be my sugar. You always were my favorite treat anyway.” Steve can’t help the blush that heats his cheeks, and Bucky looks beyond pleased. “But,” Bucky says, his voice stern. “You need to swear to me that you’ll tell me if you don’t like or don’t want to do something, okay?”

Steve nods his head.

“I swear, Buck. I will.”

“_And_, you need to let me take care of you afterwards. I might enjoy breaking you to pieces, sweetheart, but it’s the putting you back together that fulfills me.”

Steve flexes his hand over Bucky’s heart, squeezes his other one covering Bucky’s hand on him.

“You take care of my heart, and I’ll take care of yours.”

Bucky’s lower lip trembles a moment before he pulls Steve in for a kiss. It’s soft and sweet and tender, and they both have tears shining in their eyes when they part.

“I missed you, punk,” Bucky whispers.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Shut up and make love to me.”

Bucky smiles against Steve’s lips as he shifts, moves them so that Steve is on his back.

“You sure you’re not sore?” he asks, lazily grinding his hips against Steve’s.

“Dammit, Buck, I ain’t gonna break. Get your cock in me an’ stop frettin’ over me.”

Bucky pulls back and smiles down at him, and the look in his eyes is one that Steve honestly doesn’t think he’s seen since before the war.

“I love you so goddamn much, Stevie. And I love that I can tell you that without fear of someone hearing.”

“I love you too, you big sap. Now get your shorts off.”

“Always so impatient...” Bucky stretched forward and reached for the lube on the nightstand, and Steve used the opportunity to push Bucky’s shorts down over his ass, and used his legs to work them off the rest of the way.

“Promise you’ll say if it hurts.” Bucky slicks up two fingers and slides them inside, probing gently, assessing Steve’s reactions.

“Bucky, I swear, I’m good. Please,” he begs, and isn’t above a little manipulation to get Bucky inside him as he wraps a hand around the back of Bucky’s neck. “This is what I need now, babe. And I think you need it even more.”

Bucky’s eyelids flutter as Steve watches him fighting with himself.

“You’re a goddamn terror, you know that?” Bucky says as he replaces his fingers with his cock and begins a long, slow glide in.

“And you love me for it,” Steve gasps.

“Damned if I know why,” Bucky teases, and he covers Steve’s body with his, leaning in for a kiss as he languidly rolls his hips.

It’s a slow build, an unhurried coupling, full of gentle kisses, soft touches, and long, measured strokes of Bucky’s cock. Hell, they’d never taken this much care and time before the war, never mind after Bucky had returned, and yeah, maybe this _was_ what Steve needed, because it was as if every part of him finally snapped into place, and he thought his heart might burst from the love he felt at that moment.

“Bucky!” he gasps, back arching off the bed, and he clutches desperately at his shoulders. “Please, baby, please, I’m so close, please, with me.” The words come out as a nearly incoherent babble, but Bucky is moaning his name now, repeatedly, until he shudders and goes still against Steve. Steve clenches around Bucky as he comes too, holding him tight as they rock together, working through every spasm.

“That was...perfect. Fuck. Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Mmm, it was amazing,” Steve answers between kisses. “We should do that, too, more often.”

Bucky lets his cock slide out, but makes no move to disentangle himself from Steve, and instead rests his forehead on Steve’s chest.

“There’s going to be a lot of trial and error, you know that, right? And I don’t want you giving me shit about research, either.”

“Baby, I don’t care what you do to me as long as it involves more fun time with the party trick in that hand of yours.”

“Such a fucking punk. Way to ruin the moment,” Bucky chides as he tweaks one of Steve’s nipples. Steve’s laugh is cut off, morphed into a hiss even as Bucky soothes the hurt with his mouth. “If you’re a good boy. But right now, we both need sleep, sugar.”

Steve hates how already, just that one simple word, said in the right tone of voice, is enough to send shivers down his spine and make him want to do anything Bucky says.

“Stay put. I’ll go get something to clean us up so we can go to bed, okay?”

Steve smiles up at Bucky.

“Yes, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! My brain has decided that I need to further explore a bdsm relationship with this version of Steve and Bucky, so there is going to eventually be a sequel to this story...I just don't know when. For those of you subscribed, when I get the next story done and create the series, I'll add another chapter to this as a notification so you'll be aware of it :)

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me on tumblr!
> 
> <https://hanitrash.tumblr.com/>
> 
> also, check out my published stuff? pretty please?
> 
> [https://www.amazon.com/Loralynne-Summers/](https://www.amazon.com/Loralynne-Summers/e/B00RC8DGGS?ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1&qid=1577730376&sr=8-1)


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